


How can you break someone's heart without breaking your own?

by Ortholeine



Category: RWBY
Genre: Emotions, F/M, Goodwood, Ironwitch, Kissing, Sadness, and probably more - Freeform, he loves her to the moon and back, idk how to tag seriously, implied sex, like a lot, naps, odd ficlet things, she loves him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6115885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ortholeine/pseuds/Ortholeine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glynda Goodwitch used to love James Ironwood. James Ironwood still loves Glynda Goodwitch. One of them is lying to them self. How he broke her heart, but really, all along, it was her breaking his. Two-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before

            _He was breaking her heart. With every soft smile, tender gesture of affection, and declaration of love. Even as she, a 20-year-old huntress making her way in the world who was involved with a promising 23-year-old Atlesian Specialist, worked to be recognized for her skill and not her relationship. Because it couldn’t last forever. Because with every time they went their separate ways something inside her broke._

They lay together, underneath a tree in some park in an obscure city where his squad had been most recently allowed leave and she just happened to finish a mission. Her long fingers were laced with his sturdy ones, his arm under her neck and her arm pulled up towards her shoulder, similar callouses rubbing together with the small movements that came from their varying actions. She was sleeping, her head pillowed by her bag and his arm both, her riding crop mere inches away from her head. He was reading a report, from an old cold case involving some messed up children and a poor mother who was just overwhelmed and adventurous Grimm who had come too close.

He sighed and closed out of it, and almost opened another when Glynda murmured. He put his scroll down and turned as much as he could without waking her up, shifting until he was fully on his side. Glynda’s head moved closer to his as she sighed. James smiled. He couldn’t help it, with her glasses dangerously askew on her nose and her earrings disappearing into her hair. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

As he pulled back, she shifted and her green eyes fluttered open. Her eyebrows came down in what was becoming a more and more common frown. She started to shift, the beginning of a stretch and a yawn. James quickly moved to kiss her on the lips, her body already in the middle of motion. The kiss lasted much longer than her yawn and stretch, and by the end of it his unused hand was gripping her waist and one of her hands, the one between them, had moved and was pulling on his shirt.

Birds chirped over head as he drew back. A soft breeze blew through the tree limbs, and across the grass around them. Glynda’s eyes had lost their irritation, a bit of a haze in them that she would deny was even close to love in any form or fashion.

“How long was I asleep?” She asked quietly. James smiled again and lay back down, pulling her close against his side. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“Not long.”

“James,” she growled, her hand still holding his shirt pushing into his chest. “How long was I asleep?”

He sighed again and looked at her for a moment before answering.

“An hour, give or take a few minutes.”

“An hour?” She exclaimed, trying to sit up. He easily kept her pinned down, shifting some so that he was half on top of her.

“Why did you let me sleep so long? We’re wasting our time and—”

James stopped her with another kiss. Glynda let him lower her body back to the ground, and ignored the small blush forming on her cheeks.

“No time spent with you is wasted, Glynda,” he murmured, his bright blue eyes searching her face. Glynda swallowed and felt her face heat up even more. He leaned forward and pressed yet another kiss to her forehead.

“I love you,” he said quietly before laying back down and staring up at the canopy of leaves above them. Glynda gradually loosened up, all tension and anger leaving her body as she pushed herself closer to him. She snuggled—it was the only word to explain her actions. James smiled as they both lay there in quiet, slowly falling asleep.

One of the last things he heard consciously was a begrudging, almost non-existent, mumbled “I love you too”. James’ heart fluttered.

 

_James knew better. She had told him. She had tried to hold him away arms-length, as much as her young 22-year-old self could his firm, strong, 24-year-old body. She didn’t, couldn’t, have a long-distance relationship—engagement—while she worked equally hard for her career as a huntress._

 

They stood in a dark corner of the hallway. Beacon academy hadn’t changed much since he had done his exchange year there, or since Glynda’s graduation. All of their places, what had become theirs over the course of his 160 days in Vale, every place he had tried to woo her and succeeded, all of it was the same. Including this little alcove, where he stood inches behind her. He recognized her little ticks, the way her hair was moving in a nonexistent breeze and how her fingers twitched but didn’t form fists and her shoulders gradually rose higher and higher. He sighed, running a hand over his face.

“Glynda, why won’t you even talk to me about this? We can make it work.”

She didn’t turn around but her shoulders stopped rising. He held his breath: obviously something was working and she wasn’t getting any angrier, at the very least.

“We _have_ talked about this, James.” She turned around, her eyes flashing a bright green in anger he had rarely seen.

“No, we haven’t. I’ve brought it up and you’ve gotten angry and given me half-hearted excuses why this—us—won’t work.”

“Can’t, not won’t,” she tried to correct him. James took half a step forward, his hands fists.

“No, Glynda, you won’t. You aren’t willing to even give it a try and, and I don’t know why I bother.” He turned around, putting a hand to his forehead. He couldn’t see as she raised a hand, hesitantly, to touch his shoulder only for it to flinch back as he stood up straighter.

He couldn’t see as she swallowed and opened her mouth in a small O, but didn’t breathe to speak. James Ironwood didn’t see her eyes begin to grow wet as he spoke.

“I guess this is it then. Have a good day and good life, Miss Goodwitch.”

He walked away, not looking back. If he had, maybe he would have seen the tears that welled up behind her large glasses. If he had, maybe she would have seen how his heart had just been ripped from his chest.

Once she was alone, she wrapped her thin arms around her chest, silent sobs painfully wracking her body. Glynda wasn’t scared of the distance. No, they had made that work for the past four years for short periods at a time. What truly scared her was the commitment, the closeness they were creating. How he naturally gravitated towards her whenever they were standing still. How James looked at her after a truly passionate moment, though his respect for her needs and inexperience and just her as a person had him restraining himself.

Her scroll vibrated in her skirt’s pocket as she stood there, blind and dying on the inside. She could barely move to pick it up and almost fell as she cried out once she read the message. Team STRQ, one of the few that still worked together after their graduation, wanted her help on a mission.

Glynda fell against the wall and leaned against it, staring up at the ceiling and focusing on breathing. Breathing and forgetting and pushing it away, pushing all of it away. The good and the bad, the amazing and wonderful and crushing.

She closed her eyes and imagined she could feel his fingers brushing away tears, as they had done before. Imagined one last kiss before standing up. It was with one final gasp of air that Glynda Goodwitch thought she had pushed James Ironwood out of her heart and out of her life.

 

_She had tried to not succumb to his sincere kisses, his enveloping embraces. She said hurtful things, and he flinched but ignored it._

 

Glynda moaned, her eyes squeezed shut. His teeth pushed into her skin a bit harder than before and she grew louder. James growled softly, his hands pulling with a strength somewhere between gentle and rough on her hair that hung down in a braid. He sucked on the bite mark a little, trying to both soothe the angry red skin and mark her as permanently as he could, before pulling back some and kissing it gently. He moved further up on her neck, away from her now bright red collarbone and to where her neck met her shoulder.

“Ja-James!” She gasped, her hands splayed on his shoulders, not quite pushing but not quite pulling. He only pulled her harder against his body, ignoring what he knew was her desire to talk. He’d much rather pay attention to how she still reacted to him, her body to his, even now, a little over a year later, than exchange angry words and insults.

Her dress, the usual stunning combination of purple, white, and black didn’t have the traditional collar she had worn during school. James took advantage of that and left his mark all along her neck. By the time he was slowing and had worked his way to her jaw, Glynda was past words and could only make noises he hadn’t heard in over a year. He could tell, from the way her hands pulled on him and her breathing stuttered, two things: one, that if it wasn’t for her arms trapping her against him her legs would fail her, and two, that anything she had told ever him about their passion and love being “dead and gone” was a lie.

James sighed as he pulled back some, just far enough away that they were still so intimately close she couldn’t avoid him. Her green eyes were half-closed with need, her lips parted with want.

“Glynda,” he murmured, watching how her eyes changed. He was somewhat satisfied, and more than a little confused, as sadness joined the lust in her expression.

He swiftly kissed her, closing his eyes and moving his lips too fast for her to keep up in this intoxicated state. She moaned into his mouth, and before long their tongues were playing a game of war. James hoped that no one would happen to suddenly need this empty classroom at Atlas Academy. The ball had been going so splendidly boring until he saw her, and he hoped no one missed either of them.

Hands started to move, shift, gain momentum between the two of them. Before long James knew he had to stop them or they’d be doing something they’d both regret.

“Glynda,” he said as he pulled away some, more pushing her away. The huntress didn’t stop reaching for him, her lips properly swollen. James laughed as he simply used his little bit of height on her and strength to keep her away from his equally hot body.

“Glynda,” he said again, this time in a firmer and deeper tone. She stopped and seemed to come to her senses some.

“Glynda,” he tried a third time and finally she pulled back. Before she could completely extract herself and run off as she was wont to do, he grabbed her hands. “If this goes any farther, if you want this just for tonight, we should go back to my room”

Glynda seemed to stop, stilling like a deer being hunted in a forest. She looked at the ground as she nodded, lacing her fingers with his. It was mere minutes before they were truly alone in his quarters, clothing on the floor and all thoughts of the ball long gone.

 

When they both woke early the next morning to buzzing scrolls, they didn’t say anything. Glynda replied as tersely as she could, ignoring Raven’s and Qrow’s equally lewd and inappropriate innuendos completely. It took her a little by surprise when warm hands and arms came from behind and wrapped around her waist. She stiffened and let James pull her body against his.

They hadn’t lain together, quietly or passionately, in 15 months. They hadn’t done so much as look or even talk to each other in the 15 months since Glynda ended their relationship and said no to his ring. She closed her eyes and just silently enjoyed the massive warmth that was James Ironwood at her back, his breath tingling on her neck.

“What are we, Glynda?” He asked softly. She sighed, having hoped to avoid this conversation.

“I don’t know, James,” she replied. “I don’t know.”


	2. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were adults now, and had to act like adults. Besides, it almost made things easier to have actual responsibilities and not just ambitions and dreams...

_A family was out of the picture now. One too many injuries and warnings from doctors and she knew, even before then. She knew that even if he would still want her, and would still be willing to put up with all of her faults, that that was one too big of a fault even for him._

 

Glynda smiled with remorse as she watched the young mothers with their children play at the park in the middle of the town square from the coffee shop. She had taken the solo mission to investigate a few missing persons in this small, border town. It just so happened a certain Atlesian Army Captain and his men were passing through, but Glynda had tried her hardest to avoid them. The young rookies would have wanted her autograph or a picture with her, or something equally silly, and their captain…well, it was better they didn’t see each other anyway.

A cramp hit her suddenly, the pain that couldn’t be alleviated inside her pulsing with no relief. She knew from experience that any movement would make it worse, and stood stiffly in front of the window. She prayed to nobody that her drink wouldn’t be done yet. It was when a familiar warmth appeared behind her, an even more familiar reflection next to hers, that walking to retrieve her drink looked far less painful.

“Hello, Glynda,” he said quietly. There was nothing forward or even spurned about his tone. There was defeat, however, and whisper of things long past. She swallowed and closed her eyes, hoping the pain—both physical and emotional—wouldn’t show on her face. She turned around, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Hello James.”

His cheeks still looked as if they had been chiseled by the gods themselves, and his blue eyes were as bright as she remembered. Not that she thought about them or remembered them after long nights and on hard mornings.

He stepped back half a step as her name was called, swinging an arm out for her to go around him. She nodded and stepped carefully so as to not even brush against him. She hoped he wouldn’t notice how stiff she was, because he was just the type of man to remember every detail of how her body worked and be worried. He wouldn’t know what to be worried about, and probably wouldn’t even ask, but he would worry. It wasn’t until she had grabbed her drink and turned around to face the room again that she actually thought through the situation.

James Ironwood was still standing by the window, now watching out of it like she had been. There was nothing forcing her to go back and join him, no force, no order. Glynda sighed in both relief and resentment as the pain finally went away and as she made her decision. In seconds she was mimicking him, standing just far enough away behind him that he knew she was there but couldn’t feel her. They stood in the silence, Glynda sipping from her drink quietly.

“How have you been?” She finally cracked and asked, watching his face’s reflection.

His blue eyes closed briefly and he inhaled deeply before turned around, leaning against the window, and starring at he.

“I’ve been well, considering…things are going good. My men and I were taking a short 24-hour shore leave when someone mentioned that there was a hunt available here. I checked and saw that you had taken it,” he grew quiet and looked at the drink in her hands.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he said. Glynda swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She nodded and took another sip of her drink. James watched her, no emotion too plain or obvious in his eyes. He sighed and stood up, pushing off from the window. Glynda couldn’t help glancing up at him automatically.

“Walk with me?” He asked. She nodded and followed him out.

On the sidewalk it was fairly quiet. They walked side by side, her heels clicking and his hands clasped behind his back. They said nothing to each other, not even when they had reached what seemed to be the edge of town and simply turned to circle it. The path under their feet was dirt, hard and compacted, and Glynda was grateful she had officially made heels a part of her uniform long enough ago that she didn’t twist her ankle every other step.

Glynda couldn’t help stiffening and sucking in a breath as another bolt of pain sprung in her lower abdomen. James glanced at her and stopped, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Glynda, what’s wrong?” His voice and words may have been asking what physically ailed her, but the huntress knew from past experience that his eyes were asking what was emotionally wrong, where no doctor could help her.

She just shook her head, one hand unconsciously holding his as she focused on breathing. When it finally passed she straightened and started walking again. James sighed and took an extra-long step to catch up to her.

“What just happened? It can’t be a cramp, you’ve never had them that bad or taken a mission while…” he trailed off, eyebrows coming down in a sharp frown. He reached around to her other shoulder and forcibly stopped Glynda from walking. He turned her to face him and didn’t move until she did.

They stood there, in that stalemate, for what felt like a very long time. His blue eyes bore in her green eyes, neither perfect or even all that youthful looking with the wrinkles a failing world brings. Glynda took a deep breath and was prepared to continue just starring when she remembered a conversation they had had. A conversation about the future and their future, long before the problems they both had begun to make themselves known. A conversation about possible marriage and theoretical children with black hair and green eyes and blond hair and blue eyes.

“I can’t ever get pregnant,” she said bluntly. He blinked, obviously not expecting that if anything. It took a little while for all of the various emotions he was feeling to filter through before he settled on one, on sadness. Glynda moved back just enough so that his hands fell back to his sides.

“When did you find out?” He asked. Somehow his voice remained calm. Glynda wasn’t sure how; hers definitely wasn’t when she found out.

“Just a few days ago. I received the final diagnosis.”

She didn’t continue the thought, not that there was that much to say to begin with. She had known since a young age certain aspects of her body weren’t normal. Too much testosterone and not enough estrogen, too many irregularities.

He didn’t say anything, not for a while.

When he did finally speak it wasn’t words of condolence or pity, what she was expecting.

“Is that why you said no?”

The world seemed to stop in that moment for Glynda. She had look within herself and contemplate, and actually consider, how much of an impact her biological deficiencies as she saw them had on her decision to end things between them. It took some time for her to think through all of the things she could say in response.

“I’m not sure,” she began. “I think it played some part but it was not the main reason holding me back.”

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair before stepping back some, giving her a bit more breathing space.

“Well, it was nice to see you, regardless,” he said in an attempt to be polite and distant. Glynda decided then that she wasn’t completely done with him, as much as she wanted to be. She rolled her eyes and reached up with one hand to the back of his neck. She pulled his head down to meet hers and kissed him.

He didn’t have the chance to reciprocate before she ended it but grinned at her anyway. James put an arm out, and Glynda accepted it. They continued their silent walk around the town before ending up back at the town square. It was there he bent down and kissed before walking off, her drink now cold.

 

_Even now, years later, she looked into his eyes and knew. While he had been holding her heart, so preciously, so tenderly, in his unbelievably gentle hands she had been slowly crushing his._

 

Glynda didn’t know why she was surprised. Of course he would use the Vytal tournament as an excuse to kill two birds with one stone. Why would the General not come with his students to Vale when he could talk face to face with Ozpin, and make her life unbearably miserable at the same time. She tapped her toes on the ground, grinding her teeth. It wasn’t until Ozpin sighed and spun his chair towards her specifically that she realized just how loud she had been stewing.

“I’m sorry, Ozpin,” she said. He stared at her over the rim of his glasses and she ignored his look and what it implied. The man saw everything, saw through every lie. She stood up from her seat and threw her hands up in the air. Glynda began to pace back and forth in front of his desk, nervously tapping her riding crop against the palm of her hand.

She finally stilled and joined the headmaster in staring out the window, crossing her arms.

“Ironwood certainly loves bringing his work wherever he travels.” She ignored his placating words that were in response to more of her anger than what she actually said, not moving as Ozpin went to greet the famous and charismatic General James Ironwood. Something inside of her, a combination of fear, bitterness, anticipation, and regret stirred the whirlwind inside her into a hurricane.

“Glynda, it has certainly been too long since we last met,” he said in that insufferably happy tone, his blue eyes bright and happy in a way she hadn’t seen in a long time. Glynda narrowed her eyes and waved her hand.

“Oh James,” she said like the girls who had pinned after him in school had before excusing herself. It would have been too easy to bump his shoulder, but she decided to not be too childish for once.

 

It took some work, but nineteen days and a lot of bribery on his part later found the two sharing a couch and a blanket while an old silent movie played. She sat between his legs, both of them not even looking at the screen anymore. It was warm and cozy with the fire crackling underneath the screen. Glynda sighed, dropping her head back on his chest. She looked up at him, ignoring the fact that the extra heat she felt on her face was probably a blush.

“The white looks good on you,” she said almost condescendingly.

He chuckled, the sound reverberating through her body as well.

“I think I’ll take that as the compliment I’m sure you meant it was, Glynda.”

She scoffed and turned over some, more on her side now than back, one hand curled up on his chest. His uniform was gone and replaced by a loose shirt and sweatpants, as her normal outfit was replaced with one of his old Beacon shirts and her own pair of sweatpants that matched his. She closed her eyes, ignoring how her glasses were pressing into the side of her head and shifting her vision.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, snuggled closer into him.

He sighed and raised a hand, threading his fingers in her long blonde hair.

“I’ve missed you too, Glynda.”

They sat there, not so much paying attention to the movie as they were to each other. Eventually there was some more shifting and some kissing and wandering hands, but both were content to simply be in each other’s presence.

The credits had long since finished scrolling and it was fully dark out. Glynda was near sleep completely on top of his, his head pillowed by a blanket and the arm of the couch. He watched as she drifted into sleep contented, and closed his own eyes.


End file.
